“But if the system is in such bad shape, and owes the organism so much, why does not the latter take it out of the management’s hands and operate it itself!”
“There you go again! Did not I explain to you that that would be interfering with individual rights? But there—my way turns here, and I must leave you. Sorry I could not make things any plainer to you. I suppose ’tis difficult for a stranger to understand the operations of this government, but you will learn, in time, and be sure of one thing, whatever is, is right;” and the native corpuscle was carried off towards the pancreas.
“That last remark sounds rather funny,” thought the visitor, “I do not quite see, myself, the logic of it, but I’ll look about me, and perhaps it will come straight bye and bye.”
Just then his attention was called to a lugubrious corpuscle standing at a division of the ways, in the pathway leading to the liver.
“Why are you standing here?” the little stranger asked.
“I’m out of a job,” was the sullen reply.
“A job! What is that?”
“Why, work, of course! What sort of a place do you come from, not to know that?”
“Oh, work; well, then why do you not get up and go to work?”
“No one will give me a job.”